Home (Is Where The Heart Is)
by CharlotteJeanF
Summary: Seamus is kicked out of his home for loving Dean Thomas. But soon he finds out that Dean is all he needs to be home.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: My third fic! Yaaay! I know, I know, it's all Deamus and fluff AGAIN, but I hope you'll forgive me! I'm already working on a HarryxHermione one, so don't worry! I don't always write about Deamus...well, not always, but often! **

**Heehee. I hope you do like it! **

**R&R please!**

**Xx**

**Home (Is Where The Heart Is)**

Chapter 1

Seamus Finnigan was cold. The trembling hands that held on to his trunk were as stiff and barely feelable as his legs. He watched his breath rise from his already turning blue lips and form white steamy clouds in the frozen winter air. His heavy steps left deep traces on the snowy pavement and he felt a sharp, hammering pain in his head.

If he were in a different situation he'd regret bitterly that he'd left his hat, gloves, scarf and jacket back at the place he used to call home.

A sob escaped his mouth, making him shiver. The ice-cold snowflakes met his hot, tear-stained cheeks and burnt a thousand holes in his face, but he was too tired to care.

His knees were weak and when he stumbled for the second time they gave in. He landed flat on his chest, arms and legs spread out and face pressed in the snow. The white icyness soaked his coat and everything he wore underneath and made his head hurt even more, but he lay still.

The affort of getting up was just too much, and the streets were entirely empty so no one'd come and help him. They were all inside their houses, celebrating and laughing with their families. It was Christmas Eve; where did he expect people would be? Of course they were at home.

He had none. Well, not anymore. He felt numb when he thought of the horrible afternoon he'd just had. The tears started flooding as silently as the snowflakes that settled down on him slowly.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

„Sea, darling? Would ya please bring me tha cinnamon?" Seamus' mother shouted from the kitchen.

„Sure," Seamus answered, entered the storage room and looked through the shelves full of food. He found the cinnamon on the highest shelf. With a small sigh he reached out for it. He had to stand on his tip-toes, of course he had to, and even then he reached the shelf fairly hard.

_Dean would've reached it easily_, he thought and went to the kitchen. Dean Thomas was his best friend for six years now, and he happened to be about a hundred feet taller than him. Well, actually nearly _everyone _was taller than him, but he almost only noticed Dean, and sometimes it even happened that he would forget about all the others. Dean meant the most to him and exactly that was the problem.

A few months ago Seamus noticed his certain affection for his very best friend. It was a Monday afternoon, and they were sitting in the Gryffindor common room doing their homework. It was nothing special, really; Neville and Harry were trying to transfigure cushion into kittens, Dean wrote a text for Defence Against the Dark Arts, Ron was begging Hermione to let him copy her Potions essay and Seamus himself was struggling with the History of Magic thing he had to do. He was hungry and working rather slowly, and he was getting really pissed... until he looked up in the exact same moment as Dean, and their eyes met, and Dean shot him a quick smile, and he found himself staring at his paper again, turning red from head to toe. His brain was set on fire by this simple smile. He didn't dare to look up again, and that evening they went to bed without a single word. It felt awkward, and since then Seamus knew:

He was hopelessly in love with his best friend.

He didn't tell anyone, of course not; he was too afraid that the others wouldn't understand. Even more scared him the fact that he was certain he'd ruin Dean's and his friendship, and he knew that was not a loss he could bear. But the worst part were his parents.

They were strongly believing Catholics and they didn't appreciate gay love. They didn't even _tolerate _it. They found it disgusting and wrong, and from their opinion only straight love was true love. Which was rubbish. Seamus thought that people should be allowed to love whoever they wanted to, and that it should be okay.

So he was totally afraid of their reaction, but nonetheless today was going to be the day; he was going to tell them. He _had _to tell someone, he just couldn't keep it a secret any longer, and he was their only child, and it was Christmas, so they couldn't kick him out, could they?

With another sigh he approached his mother.

„Thanks hun," his mum said, taking the cinnamon. She was baking cookies for the next day, while his dad drank his daily glass of Brandy in front of the fireplace.

„Mam," Seamus said, watching the snowflakes slowly falling to the ground on the other side of the window. How peaceful they looked.

„Yes, hun?" she asked, still paying more attention to the dough than to him.

„Mam." he repeated, and something in his tone made her stop kneading and look up at him.

„What's t'matter, baby?" she asked, a little bit worried now.

„I think I fell in love with someone," he said, looking at her. She beamed.

„Really? Oh, that's wonderful! HAROLD! Our baby's in love with someone! Jesus, that's_ SO _exciting! What's her name? Do we know her? Does she love you back? Well, I bet she does, she _has _to, you're such a handsome young man-"

„I don't know if he loves me back," Seamus interrupted her, his heart beating as fast as never before.

The silence in the room was nearly touchable. His mum was staring at him, eyes wide open in shock, and his dad sat in his armchair as if he was petrified. Seamus looked down at his shoes, blushing because he felt really uncomfortable. About a hundred years later his mum broke the silence. She blinked two times, shook her head as if it had been just a bad dream she could shake off by ignoring it, and talked again. Her voice was awfully loud and cheerful, but her trembling hands that continued to knead the dough taught her lies.

„Hey, that's still wonderful, don't worry, you'll just find out, probably she'd like to come over for New Year's Eve? She could even sleep in ya room, no prob! I'd just really like to meet her-"

„You've already met him," Seamus cut her off, a little bit angry now. Why did she ignore everything he said?

His mum stopped and looked away. She turned her back to him, but the loud sob that came out of her mouth told him she was crying. Before he was able to do anything, his father was standing next to him.

„What did you just say?" he asked angrily.

Seamus swallowed. His father's face was slowly growing red, and he seemed about to explode. But it was too late anyways.

„I'm gay," he said, surprisingly calm.

The glass broke as his father balled his hands to fists. Brandy splattered everywhere; his mum cried even more now, and before he knew what was happening, Seamus had a fist in his face. He let out a surprised cry and stumbled backwards, his hand automatically shooting up to his hurting eye. He didn't even have time to find out how bad the damage was, because his father hit him again. And again. And again.

He hit his head, his ribcage, his stomach, even his testicles. He hit him as if he could just beat it out of him. Seamus was too shocked to defend himself; his testicles hurt awfully, his stomach rebelled, the whole room seemed to twirl, he felt blood dripping and he couldn't really breathe. And there was no escape.

His father just would not stop beating him, his mother would not stop crying and the pain would not go away on it's own. Seamus didn't know how, but eventually he managed to elude his father, slip through the door, grab his wand and the trunk that was still fully packed, waiting in the hallway since he arrived a few hours ago, and get out. He didn't even close the door; he just ran, as fast as he could, and hoped his father wouldn't follow him.

After twenty painful minutes he stopped, heavily breathing and completely exhausted. He was covered in sweat, and now that he was outside in the cold he started to freeze easily. His head ached really bad; his left eye was swollen, his nose was bleeding and probably broken, his testicles felt mashed, his entire body hurt and every breath was a painful stitch. He somehow managed to stop crying and look around. He'd left his hometown far behind, and now he stood in a small forest in the middle of nowhere in Ireland, and it was already getting dark. He tried not to panick and swallowed a few times.

Should he go back? Search for the next house? Call someone he knew? None of the opportunities seemed as if it was going to work well, he decided. If he went back, his father would only beat him more and he wasn't sure if he'd survive the second time. If he started to search for the next house, he could be on the way for days because he didn't even know _if _there was a house located nearby. He could call someone he knew, but even that wouldn't really help him, because he didn't know where exactly he was. So there was only one thing he could do. He had to move on.

He didn't even dare to open his trunk and grab a jacket, or at least a warmer sweater, because his father's angry voice echoed in his head, calling him words that hurt even more than the beating itself. Seamus started to walk again, but stopped after a few metres. His legs hurt and he was tired, and hungry, and cold, and he had no place to go. He was alone. So terribly alone.

He pressed his hands on his ears, attempting to make his father stop calling him awful things, but only caused the voice to grow even louder. He screamed. And then he suddenly heard another voice.

„You know that you can count on me, right? Whatever your problem is, just come and be sure that I'll help you," it said. It took him a few moments to figure out that it was Dean's voice, and then he remembered how Dean had said these words to him before they left the _Hogwarts Express _only a few hours ago.

Dean. Could he really go there? Could he go to the boy he loved (who had no idea about that) because he was kicked out of his home for loving him?

He was doubting that hardly, but he was also too exhausted to think of another option. He took his wand, and his trunk, and then he apparated, leaving nothing but traces in the snow.

Seamus appeared again in the middle of a snowy London. He looked around, and thankfully no one was there, so no one had seen him; he was safe, or at least safer than he was in Ireland. After a few minutes of orienting he found out that he was only a few streets away from Dean's house. He was so close.

Totally exhausted, Seamus took his things and started to walk in the direction where he knew he'd find him. Hopefully he would be there before dinner. He was starving.

It started to snow heavier now. He could barely see something, with his left eye damaged and the right one full of white icy flakes whirling around, but he knew where he had to go. It was just that the more he walked, the more exhausted he was. Every step challenged the utmost from him, and every inch of his body hurt. And then he stumbled. And fell.

And here he was, lieing on the cold ground, crieing silently and rethinking too much before he eventually passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

„DEAN! For god's sake, WHERE ARE YOU?" his mum shouted from the kitchen. He sighed and entered the busy room.

„WHAT do you want?" he barked, trying to drown his sibling's loudly talking voices.

„I forgot to buy milk; would you do me the favour?" she answered, giving him a Come-on-you-were-always-the-good-boy-look. He sighed again.

„Fine," he murmured, pushed his seven-year-old sister Annie out of the way and put his coat on.

„WHY IS DEAN GOING OUT MUMMY?! WHY IS HE GOING OUT WHEN I'M NOT?!" his younger sister Jazmyn screamed.

„OH, SHUT UP!" he shouted and slammed the door shut. Silence surrounded him. He relaxed immediately, let out another sigh – but this time a thankful one – and walked down the street to the 24/7-shop nearby. It was really exhausting to live in a family like his. He had two older and four younger sisters, three older brothers and about a hundred cousins, who were all there to visit them today. Only because it was Christmas. Bloody hell, what was so exciting about Christmas? Dean never understood the turmoil. He would be perfectly fine if he could just stay in his room, draw, eat some sweets and maybe watch a movie later. He didn't need any company.

Well, probably Seamus could be there. He was Dean's best friend and his favorite person to be around. He loved to spend time with Sea, even if he was very talkative and energetic when he was in a good mood, which was the majority of the time. Yeah, Seamus would be all right.

Dean approached the shop quickly. It was empty, of course it was (probably because it smelled like smoke and alcohol), but it was open; Dean had never seen it closed. He entered the small shop and walked straight up to the shelf with the dairy products. He grabbed the milk and some chocolate and went to the cashier desk immediately. The poor man behind it wore his uniform and a tired, self-pitying smile. Next to him stood an old, cracking radio, which played a Muggle song named „Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas", and he seemed very lonely. Dean paid and in a paroxysm of compassion he opened the chocolate bar, broke it into two pieces and put one of them on the desk. The cashier gave him a thankful smile, and Dean smiled back before he left the shop, pushing one piece of chocolate in his mouth and the rest of it in his pocket.

He was already on his way back when he decided he'd walk the other way around; that would be a great opportunity to gather a tiny bit of time for himself. He turned on his heel and walked slowly in the other direction, enjoying the silence and the pleasingly cold snow. He watched the white snowflakes melt on his dark skin and thought of his room, where his sketchbook waited for him. He'd started to draw a picture of their Christmas tree this morning and wanted to finish it.

Caught in his thoughts, Dean didn't notice the human lieing on the ground, and he stumbled and landed on his hands and knees.

„Fuck!" he shouted, got up and cleaned his pants. Thankfully, the milk bottle remained intact, and he didn't get hurt. With a slightly angry face he turned around to see the cause of his stumbling. It was a young man with blonde hair, wearing a soaked black coat, lieing in the snow face-down. Next to him lay a trunk and a stick, and he didn't move. Dean snorted and turned around.

Silly homeless people getting drunk and then passing out in the middle of the street were none of his business. He'd just taken a few steps when he realised something and froze. He turned around, slowly, and looked at the motionless man.

He knew that coat. And that hair. He even knew that trunk, and he knew that the stick was not a stick, but a wand. He knew this guy, better than anyone else.

„Seamus?" he asked, his voice oddly shaking. No answer. Seamus lay still, so still... Dean gulped. He felt the fear rising in his heart like a black flower, blooming quickly. He could not be dead, could he?

No, Dean decided and crouched down next to his best friend. „Sea?" he repeated, but Seamus didn't answer and remained motionless. Sweat was forming on Dean's brow.

„Come on, Sea, get up! You can't just lie around here, you need to get up.." Dean stammered, not realising what he was saying. He reached out and flinched as he noticed how cold Seamus was. So unbelievably cold.

Dean swallowed hardly and then reached out once again. _Don't be a coward, come on, he's just unconscious, _he thought and turned his friend around. When he saw his face he winced. Seamus' face was swollen and red, bruises everywhere, and was that blood under his nose? Dean tried not to cry and bent down, pressing his ear against Seamus' lips. Yep, he did breathe, barely, but still. He breathed. He was alive.

Dean let out a small, relieved laugh before he thought of the actual problem: How was he going to take Seamus home?

He thought of using _Wingardium Leviosa_, but ditched the idea quickly when he noticed all the houses around. The chance of being seen by a muggle looking out of their window was way too big.

So there was only one way left. Dean sighed, got up, wiped the snow off his knees, put Seamus' wand in his pocket and then lifted Seamus up quickly. He rested him on his shoulders, nearly smiling at how light he was, then took his trunk and went home as quick as possible.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Seamus woke up from the sound of softly muttering voices. He didn't open his eyes at first; he just lay still and tried to feel the pain, but there was none. It was all gone. That made him wonder a bit, but then he decided to be thankful instead of suspicious. At least his head was clear so he could think without hurting.

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times and getting used to the light. When he could see clearly again, he looked around. He lay in a warm bed, which stood in the corner of a small but friendly bedroom. He knew that room. He just didn't remember where from.

Next to the bed stood a small nightstand with photos, a book and a wand on it, and next to that was a window. In the other corner was a desk, full with school stuff in one corner and painting utensils on the rest of it. Next to the desk was a closet, then the door, then a drawer. The whole room was covered with posters of bands he'd never heard of and various football teams. And then he suddenly knew.

This was the room of his favorite muggle-born of all time. And said favorite muggle-born sat next to him, on his left, a worried line between his eyebrows but a small smile on his lips.

„You're awake," he said instead of a welcome. Seamus grinned.

„Hey Dean, pleased to meet you again that soon, oh I'm fine, thanks for asking, how are you by the way?" he said sarcastically, his hoarse voice cracking a bit.

„Hey, don't get too cheeky, Finnigan! I saved your life, so have a little bit of respect in your manners, you Irish butthole!" Dean said and grinned, too.

„You saved my life?" Seamus asked, frowning; but before Dean could explain anything, the door opened and a bunch of dark-skinned people exploded into the room.

„He's awake! He's awake!" a girl, maybe seven years old, shrieked, pointing at Seamus and jumping up and down enthusiastically.

„Shh, Annie, don't scream! Mr Finnigan is still not sane," another girl, maybe twenty, said.

„I _am _sane!" Seamus protested. „And don't call me Mr Finnigan! I'm Seamus! Just Seamus!"

„Alright, Just Seamus, but trust me: you're not sane enough to handle these three," the girl said, smiled and dragged a shouting Annie and two smaller girls out of the room. She closed the door behind them and the room grew silent.

„Thank god she's here; I don't know what I would do without Shona, and my lovely Dean, of course," a woman said and smiled at Seamus. He knew this woman. It was Mrs Thomas, Dean's mum, and she was probably the nicest person he'd ever met. Except for Dean, of course.

„You'd go crazy," a guy said. He looked just like an older version of Dean, shorter but more muscular, with a radiant smile. „Hi, I'm Tom by the way," he said and shook Seamus' hand.

„Tom Thomas," Seamus said and grinned.

„Yeah, stupid, isn't it? But my dad wanted to call one of the children Tom, and I guess it was bad luck that it happened to be me," he told him and ran his fingers through his hair. His shirt revealed a bit of his dark stomach, just a tiny bit of abs. Very, very nice abs.

Seamus tried not to stare, which was easy because Dean was around. So he distracted himself by looking at his best friend, who gave him a huge smile.

„I'm glad you're okay," he said. Seamus wanted to explain why he wasn't feeling very okay, but Mrs Thomas cut him off before he even had started talking.

„Okay, boys, you really need to leave Seamus alone; his injuries are healing slowly, and I bet he's tired, so let him sleep," she said, stood up and opened the door. Tom walked out with a quick wink, but Dean stayed exactly where he was.

„I won't leave; I'll wait 'til he's asleep, in cause that he needs something, and then I'll come and join you," he said, crossing his arms and making sure he looked serious.

Mrs Thomas sighed. „Okay, but don't stay too long. Sleep well, Seamus," she said, smiled at him and then closed the door behind her. Seamus waited a few seconds to make sure they were alone before he looked at Dean.

„So...you saved my life?" he continued where they'd been interrupted.

„Yep. You were lying outside there, in the next street, and you were freezing and I just picked you up and brought you here. I'm a real saint," Dean said.

„Thanks, my lord, I'll be eternally grateful," Seamus grinned. Dean stuck his tongue out before he asked, „But the actual question is: _Why _did I have to save you? Why are you damaged like that, why are you here? What the hell happened?"

„Well, that's not a very nice story...Besides, where did all the pain go?" Seamus said, trying to avoid the answer.

„Mum gave you some antibiotics. But don't divert! I asked you something," Dean answered.

„Are you... sure you want to hear that?" Seamus asked, shifting uncomfortably.

„Of course I am!" Dean said, pouting. That was the cutest thing Seamus had ever seen, and he bit his tongue to resist the urge to kiss him.

„Fine, okay. I'll tell you." Seamus swallowed before he started to talk, fast and quiet, his Irish accent as thick as never before. A part of him was hoping that maybe Dean wouldn't be able to understand him. But of course he was.

„Well, I told me parents somethin', and they kicked me out. Oh, and me dad has beaten the shit outta me. As if that would change anything."

„What did you tell them?" Dean asked, his voice calm. He had to stay calm before he just apparated to Seamus' house and kill his parents for being they way they were.

„I ... well ... I'm gay." Seamus suppressed the sob in his throat and tried not to cry. That was it. This was the end of their friendship.

„Oh." Dean said, looking at him. And then he hugged him tight, and Seamus cried a few silent tears of relief, before he let him go and asked: „Aren't you ... disgusted?"

„Sorry?" Dean said, sitting back down. „Why would I be disgusted? I don't care if you like men or women or dogs or whatever; you are still Seamus, aren't you?"

Seamus sniffed, then smiled. „Yes. I am still me."

„See? I don't think there's any reason to be disgusted. You are still Seamus, my best mate, and you will always be. Not more and not less."

Seamus' smile grew even wider, while he felt his eyelids getting heavier. The medicine was kicking in. „You are such a nice person, I can't believe you're not a Hufflepuff," he mumbled, snuggling deep into the sheets. The smelled like Dean. He felt comfortable and warm and that made him tired. Dean grinned.

„Uh, Dean?" Seamus asked, yawning.  
„Yeah?" Dean looked at him.

„I love you," Seamus whispered and closed his eyes. He fell asleep so quick that he missed Dean's very quiet and very serious „I love you, too".


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Dean walked downstairs slowly, fiddling with the seam of his shirt, leaving his thoughts behind in the room where his very best mate was asleep. He'd been watching him for over ten minutes after he passed out, but then he realised what he was doing was kinda creepy and his mother would probably wonder what he was doing, and so he jumped up so quick that his stool nearly fell and just rushed out.

He didn't quite understand why he stayed there. It wasn't something really spectacular watching other people sleep. It was quite boring, to be honest. But somehow he just enjoyed sitting there and looking at Seamus. He could've done it for hours easily.

„Dean? Where have you been that long? Everybody's waiting for you!" his older sister Danielle said, interrupting his thoughts. She stood at the end of the staircase, waiting for him with a worried line between her eyebrows.

„He just ... couldn't fall asleep," Dean lied, thanking God that he wasn't really able to blush.

„Is he all right?" she asked. He noticed a weird tone in her voice, but decided to ignore it.

„Yeh, I guess he's as all right as someone possibly can be. I mean, would you be _all right _if you were gay and your parents had just kicked you out on Christmas Eve after beating you horribly?" he said with a certain bitterness.

„Well..." she started. Dean didn't wait for her to continue. He just walked past her, said „See?" and entered the living room, where his whole family was waiting.

During the entire evening, all he could think of was how glad he was that he'd found Seamus and that he was going to be okay again soon, hopefully. He just wanted him safe.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

„Uh...Dean?"

„Huh?"

„How do you guys celebrate Christmas?"

Dean looked up from the dishes he was just cleaning. Seamus was sitting opposite of him, busy with his muesli. He'd been asking seemingly ridicolous questions all day. Annie laughed for ten minutes when he asked what a microwave was supposed to do. He knew that his family thought that Seamus' questions were weird, but Dean secretly loved them. He loved the excitement that always lit Sea's whole face up whenever Dean told him something about the Muggle world.

Seamus looked Dean straight in the eye. He wore an old shirt and boxers, his eyes were a little sleepy still and he hadn't even combed his hair. It was just a giant, golden mess. Dean thought he'd never looked better.

„Well...on the first day, December 24th, all my family comes around and we have a giant feast, with muggle music and tons of food and everything. In the evening, when everybody's full and satisfied, and after we spent most of the day talking and drinking and laughing, we decorate our Christmas tree brilliantly, and we do it all together. That happened to be yesterday, while you were asleep.

The next day we go to our grandparents' house to have more food and exchange the Christmas gifts. We'll leave in about ... two hours.

And on the last day we can just do whatever we want, which mostly means that my parents go out, my sisters meet their friends, my brothers go partying and I stay here and draw or watch a movie or so," Dean finished his explanation of their – in his opinion – completely boring Christmas plans.

He really didn't like all the trouble they had the first two days, but just as he expected Seamus loved it. He annoyed Dean for the rest of noon with every single question someone could think of, but somehow Dean was okay with that. No, he was more than okay with that. He liked it. He liked seeing his friend feeling better and fuzzing around just as usual. He really did like it.

But when it was time to leave to their grandparents' house, Seamus said he wasn't feeling well. No matter how much they talked to him or how often they tried to get him to accompany them, he just said no, he'd stay here and sleep until they were back. Sometime, when they were already running late, Dean noticed it was pointless and told Seamus to be careful and not touch a single electric thing. Seamus pouted and then waved them all goodbye. When they were gone, he went back to bed, back to Dean's bed where he would spent some wonderful lonely hours thinking of the one thing he desired most but couldn't have.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It was late in the evening when the door to Dean's room opened and he entered, looking annoyed and tired but somehow glad to see Seamus.

„Sea?" he asked quietly, hoping he'd be awake.

„Hm?" Seamus answered and turned around.

„We're back," Dean said, standing in the door frame, shifting uncomfortably. He knew it sounded dumb, but that was the only thing he could think of.

„Yay," Seamus grunted, sat up and yawned. Dean noticed that he was shirtless.

„Uh, Sea?" he asked, his voice oddly high-pitched. „Are you... are you naked?"

„Oh, um ... a little bit, maybe," Seamus answered and blushed. Dean's thoughts swirled around uncontrollably. Seamus was naked. In bed. In _his _bed. His naked skin had been touching his sheets, and the mattress, and the pillows, and oh god ... Dean felt his cheeks growing hot.

„Wait, I'll just...just get dressed," Seamus murmered and climbed out of bed. Dean tried not to stare but failed epicly. He felt a certain breathlessness. When did all the oxygen in this house disappear?

He looked away, staring out of the window and trying really hard to focus. _Don't lose it, mate,_ he thought and catched his breath. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, just breathe slowly. Breathe.

„Uh Dean? Could you hand me ma shirt, please?" Seamus turned to face him. _Breathe, Thomas, breathe._

Dean nearly threw the shirt at him. Seamus made a little surprised noise, mumbled a „Thanks" and pulled it over his head. These abs. How did he not notice these abs before?

Dean didn't know. All he did know was that he needed a distraction, and he needed it fast.

He cleared his throat and hoped he wouldn't sound as wobbly as he felt, but somehow he managed to get a whole, normal sentence out of his mouth. „You wanna watch a movie?"

„Sure," Seamus said and suppressed a grin. „Well, you can, uh, look now. I'm done."

_Me too_, Dean thought and glanced at his Irish lad. How could he smile in a situation like this?

„That is not funny!" he blurted out, his cheeks turning hot immediately again. With an annoyed snort he walked downstairs. Seamus grinned even more and followed him slowly. He was sure that everything would turn out all right soon.

„Which one do you wanna see?" Dean asked grumpily. He was more confused than ever and Seamus was making fun of him? That was so typical.

„Hm," Seamus said and let his eyes wander over the pretty huge collection of DVDs in the shelves in the living room. He'd been really impressed the first time he'd seen it.

A sudden question appeared in his mind. „But what about your family? Is it okay with them?"

„My parents are going out with my older sisters and brothers and my younger ones are asleep, so don't worry about that," Dean said. His heart skipped a beat or maybe two when he noticed that they were as good as completely alone.

A sudden smile spread over Seamus' freckled face. „That one! That one! Oh, please!" he shouted, jumping up and down in excitement. His injuries were so much better today.

Dean's heart sank as he saw the movie Seamus was pointing at. He didn't want Seamus to see him cry, and this movie was a thousand-percent guarantee to make Dean Thomas cry. He swallowed.

„Are you sure? I mean, _Finding Nemo _is a child movie, and-"

„I _am _sure! Please let's see it! _Please?_" Seamus interrupted him. He pouted and then used his puppy eyes.

Dean sighed. This was a lost war. He grabbed the movie and put it in the DVD player more roughly than needed, while Seamus settled down on the couch, using more than the half of it.

„Move," Dean said, nudged him and sat down. His heart was beating in an unbelievable speed when he pressed _Play_, but it might've been because of the guy next to him, who just snuggled in closer and let his head drop on Dean's shoulder. Dean decided to just go with it, first because Seamus had had some rough times and second because he enjoyed it. He really did.

The hours went by quickly and the part that always brought tears in his eyes was displayed sooner than Dean had thought. He pressed his lips together and swallowed hardly, looking around in attempt to not start to cry when he noticed that his shirt was soaked. Seamus was crying, tears streaming down his face silently when Dory said „I look at you, and I'm home."

Dean swallowed once more. He didn't want to cry, but seeing his best mate upset hurt so much that he was close. He tried to focus on the movie, but failed. He just couldn't.

Seamus was so close and he was so warm and he smelled like peppermint and cinnamon and Dean really wanted to kiss him right now. But he knew that he couldn't.

When the end credits started playing, Dean jumped up thankfully. He took the DVD out of the player and said, without turning around, „Wanna see another one? _Home Alone _is great, you should _really _see that!"

He hoped that Seamus would have stopped crying when he turned around. He wasn't sure how much his poor heart could handle.

„Yeah, sounds good," Seamus said, his voice surprisingly steady and calm. When Dean returned to the couch, he looked like he'd never cried, except for the reddish lines around his eyes. Dean pressed _Play _and sat down, leaving a gap of a few centimetres between them.

Seamus fidgeted. He was picking his nails, seeming uncomfortable. Dean tried to follow the movie but watched Seamus instead out of the corner of his eye.

He felt tired and electrified at the same time. Seamus yawned.

Before they both knew what was happening, Dean's arm was around Seamus, and his head laid on Seamus' which was resting on his right shoulder. Their hands touched, fingers intertwined. They both fell asleep quicker than a raindrop falling to the earth.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The next morning was weird. Dean and Seamus just sat in the kitchen, eating their breakfast, not looking at each other and talking as less as possible. Whenever they accidentally touched, one of them (Seamus) would turn tomatoe red and the other (Dean) would stammer „Sorry" and then they would both look away. It was awkward, especially because Dean's parents had found them, asleep on the couch, cuddling and holding hands. His mother had asked Dean some very embarassing questions afterward. And even if she'd told him that it would be okay with her, and she'd find them cute together, Dean wasn't sure if it was possible. Even if Seamus did tell him that he was gay, what did that mean? Nothing, exactly.

He didn't want to ruin their friendship.

„Dean, sweetheart?" his mum said and entered the kitchen, wearing a nearly blinding, yellow coat. But the coat couldn't shine as bright as her smile.

„Hm?" Dean looked up, trying to keep his eyes from wandering over to Seamus.

„We're leaving. Oh, nice shirt, Seamus darling! Really nice. We'll be back late, so don't wait for us! Have fun!" she said and smiled even brighter.

„Thanks, ma'am, but my shirt surely isn't as nice as your coat," Seamus answered. Mrs Thomas beamed blindingly.

„Thank you, honey! Oh, and you know that you can stay until you both have to go back to school, if that's okay with you?" she said, looking a little worried now.

„Thank you, that's very nice to hear, but I'm not sure if it'll work out," Seamus told her and smiled weakly. She just nodded.

„Think about it, right, honey? 'Kay, then I'll leave you alone now! See you later!" she kissed Dean on the cheek and rushed out of the room. Dean waited until he was sure that they were really gone and none of his siblings was around anymore before he talked to Seamus directly.

„What do you mean, you don't know if it'll work out?"

Seamus looked at him for the first time this morning. It felt good. But his words didn't.

„I mean that I think I'm going to leave. I can't do this anymore," he said, finished his eggs and bacon and put the dishes in the washer before he headed off to the living room.

„You can't do what anymore?" Dean shouted after him. Seamus didn't answer.

The biggest part of the day was spent in the living room, where Dean would draw and think about Seamus, who was upstairs. Dean wasn't really sure what he should say to him, especially now that he was sure that he felt something for his best friend, something that was definetily more than friendship. Yes, he loved his best friend and yes, he didn't know what to do.

He groaned and dunked the brush in the blue paint he always used for Seamus' eyes. He drew him, of course he did. He always drew what was on his mind and that was, now more than ever, Seamus. He just prayed that he wouldn't leave.

It was around four O'clock when Seamus eventually entered the living room, fiddling with his sleeve and avoiding eye contact. Dean looked up from his nearly ready picture.

„I can't do this anymore," Seamus said as if they never stopped their conversation. „My things are packed, I'm goin' to leave in a few minutes and then take the bus to Dover; I don't know where I'm going, but I do know that we won't see us again, so I guess this is goodbye."

Dean wondered if Seamus could hear the sound of his heart as it broke into a million little pieces.

„Would you be so kind and tell me what exactly it is that you can't do anymore?" he asked, his voice calm. He didn't know how he managed to not break down and cry and beg Seamus not to leave.

„I've been kicked out for reasons," Seamus said, slowly turning red from head to toe. „Not just because I'm a poof, but also 'cause I'm in love with someone. Well, more exactly I'm in love with you. That's why I can't do this anymore, live in your house and stuff. It's too much knowing that I'm not good enough for you."

Dean's heart skipped another beat, then raced twice as fast as it did before. He swallowed and took the picture he'd been working on for the last few hours.

„Would you please do me a favour and look at this?" he asked and handed the paper to Seamus, who simply stared at it. He blushed even harder and his hands, Dean noticed, were trembling.

„What does this look like to you?" Dean asked softly. He watched Seamus' eyes wandering over the painting, which showed him, laying in bed, sleeping, naked.

„Like a piece of art," Seamus breathed quietly.

Dean cupped his hand around Sea's cheek and watched him the whole time. Seamus looked up, breathing unsteadily and shaking lightly. His heart was racing.

„Because I look at you, and I'm home," Dean quoted and when Seamus smiled disbelievingly he leaned in.

Their lips touched and Seamus Finnigan was home again.


End file.
